Jack Higgins – Drink With The Devil 1996

“The grand gentleman that he is. Sure and the empire is in safe hands.” Dillon took a cigarette from his old silver case and lit it.

“We don’t have an empire any longer, Dillon,” she said.

“Is that a fact, and does the Government know that?”

She shook her head. “Hopeless, Dillon, that’s what you are, and you’ll kill yourself if you keep on smoking those things.”

“True, but then I always knew I’d come to a bad WHEN FERGUSON WAS SHOWN INTO THE PRIME ‘Minister’s study, Simon Carter was already seated. A

small man in his early fifties with snow-white hair, he had o/ice been a professor of history. Never an agent in the field himself, he was one of the faceless men who controlled Britain’s security system, He disliked Ferguson, had for years, and resented the Brigadier’s privileged position a. the fact that he was

answerable to the Prime Minister only.

“Sorry I’m late, Prime Minister.”

He made no excuses and the Prime Minister ‘ smiled. “That’s all right.” He picked up a file. “The

security plans the Deputy Director and his people have planned for the President’s Visit. You’ve read this?”

“Naturally.”

“I’m particularly anxious that his visit to the House of Commons goes well on Friday morning.

Refreshments on the Terrace at ten-thirty.” “No problems there, Prime Minister,” Carter said.

“The one place during his whole trip which will provide no security problem at all is the House of Commons.” He turned to the Brigadier, the usual arrogant look on his face. “Don’t you agree, Ferguson.” Ferguson would have let it go, but Carter’s look made him angry.

“Well, do you, Brigadier.’?” the Prime Minister asked.

“Seems all right on the surface of things, but to be frank, Prime Minister, Dillon doesn’t think much of it at all. He believes general security at the House of Commons to be very poor, indeed.” “Dillon.’?” Carter’s eyes bulged. “That damned coundrel. I really must protest, Prime Minister, that Brigadier Ferguson continues to employ a man once an IRA gunman, a man with a record in the general field of Eurgp-e- an terrorism that can only be described as. infamous.’ ‘ “I protest in my mm,” Ferguson said. “Dillon has been of considerable ervice to the Crown as you well know, Prime Minister, not least to the Royal Family itself.” “Yes, I’m well aware of that.” The Prime Minister frowned. “But this is too important for personal bickering, gentlemen. My decision.” He sat back and said to Carter, “I’d like you to meet with the Brigadier and Dillon at the House of Commons. I’d like you to hear what he has to say.” Carter controlled his anger with difficulty. “If you say so, Prime Minister.” “Yes, I’m afraid I do. And now you must excuse me. I have a Cabinet meeting.”

EVERYONE STANDS IN LINE TO GET INTO THE House of Commons, not only tourists but constituents waiting to see Members of Parli.ament. Ferguson, Dillon, and Hannah Bemstein waited their turn, Fergu-son with some impatience.

“The grand place, this,” Dillon said. “They tell me they have twenty-six restaurants and bars and the food and drink subsidized by the taxpayer. A fine job being an MP.” “Yes, well at least they don’t have to queue to get in the damn place,” Ferguson told him.

A very large police sergeant watching the line intently saw ]-lannah, stiffened to attention, and came forward. “Chief Inspector Bernstein. Nice to see you, ma’am. Here, let me pass you through. You won’t remember me.” “Oh, but I recall you veryNvell. Sergeant Hall, isn’t it?” “Yes, ma’am. I was first on the scene when you shot that bastard who held up the supermarket. You were on your way to the American Embassy.” “Your wicked past catches up,” Dillon murmured.

“This is a colleague, Mr. Dillon, and my boss, Brigadier Ferguson,” she said. ‘ Sergeant Hall became very military. “Let me pass you all through, Brigadier.” “That’s very kind, Sergeant.” “My pleasure, sir.” He led them through the barrier and saluted and they walked on toward the Central Lobby. “How fortunate you were here, Chief Inspector,” Ferguson told her. “We could have stood in that wretched queue forever.” “Humiliating, isn’t it?” Dillon said.

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